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“Everyone has stuff in their family that—”

“No, don’t you dare try to minimize this,” Lila cut across her. “You were robbed of a proper childhood. You were robbed of a brother who loved you. And you were robbed of an ally that you might have had in your mother. That’s trauma, Jamie. You are perfectly justified in your fear of your father.”

Tears flooded back into Jamie’s eyes. At last, it all made sense. She had never put it together before, and no one had ever validated her fear. But she had never told anyone the real story. Now that she had, and Lila confirmed the connection, Jamie felt as if she’d heaved massive bricks off her shoulders.

“I don’t want to be afraid of him anymore,” she said.

“You won’t be,” Lila assured her. “But you have to understand something to face it. And you have to face something to grow from it. Let’s do that together, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jamie said with a nod and a smile.

Lila took Jamie’s hands in hers. “I want you to repeat after me.”

“Alright.”

“My fears are valid,” Lila said.

“My fears are valid,” Jamie repeated.

“My past is part of who I am.”

“My past is part of who I am.”

“But it does not define me.”

“But it does not define me.”

“Well done, Jamie,” Lila said, patting her hand. “Now we can begin the real work.”

Chapter 16

Rain plastered Jamie’s kit to her body and her wet ponytail clung to the back of her neck. Mud painted her shorts and legs. In true London fashion, it was pouring, but that didn’t stop the match between Stanmore and Everton. Even with the chill of early November in the air. A cold breeze made gooseflesh erupt over Jamie’s skin, but she shook it off and jogged toward their end to defend a corner.

The referee blew her whistle. The Everton winger sent the ball in a high arc toward the center of the goal. Eliana leaped forward through the jostling players, her fists raised, and punched the ball back into the dark sky.

“I got it!” Jamie shouted.

She shoved a defender off her back and followed the ball. She ran to meet it, building momentum to leap into the air. She reared back to strike it with her head.

Only she didn’t get the ball. She caught a mere flash of the opponent’s boot before it slammed into her forehead. Her vision went black, and she collapsed onto the soaking pitch.The crowd’s collective gasp faded in her ears, along with her teammates’ shouts of her name, as if she was turning down the volume of her television.

When Jamie opened her eyes, she was back on the ship from her dream. She was Abigail again, seeking out Verity in the darkness aboard a ship headed for Jamestown. They found each other, reassured each other, and then leaped into the sea together. As her body plunged into the water, the image shifted.

She lifted her skirts and ran from her closet. Her candle waited for her by the door in its holder. She lifted it carefully to light her way through the grand house. Once down the stairs, she slipped into her husband’s study. She opened each drawer in the large mahogany desk, frantic for something, anything, that she could use to leave a note for Aisling. Finally, in the top right-hand drawer, she found a loose leaf of parchment.

She slapped it onto the desk and snatched up her husband’s quill. Holding her sleeve back, she dipped it in the ink. Then she began to write. She hardly had the words for what she was going to do. But it was her only choice. After all, if she abandoned her husband, he might take the children with him anyway, and she couldn’t bear to be parted from them. He so often used them as weapons against her. And what life would there be for her and Aisling? Revolution or not, there was nothing for them. Nothing real.

Aisling, I’m sorry, she wrote. She had to begin with an acknowledgment of the wrong she was doing. Sneaking away in the night to get back to England and leaving the house and staff behind was not what she wanted. She wrote the only explanation she had.Arthur thought, with the growing rumblings of revolution, it would be better for us to return to England as a family. I have left some money for you in my shoe, the third pair on the left in my closet. I hope you will make a life for yourself. I know this must be difficult, but youmust understand. There’s no place for us. Not really. Maybe, if we lived in a slightly more tolerant world, we could do as we wished. But it isn’t to be. I shall always remember you and our time together. –Kitty

She dropped the quill and read it over. Should she have said “I love you” somewhere in the note? They had whispered it to each other in the still of night, after Kitty had escaped the bedchamber she shared with her husband and snuck away to be with Aisling.

No, it was better this way. If the roles were reversed, reading those words would only hurt and make things worse. Kitty sat back in the chair, hating herself. It was impossible to win. To choose Aisling would be to betray her family. Choosing her family meant betraying Aisling. How had fate dealt her such a cruel hand? Was it God’s way of punishing her for being unfaithful to her husband? A husband she had only married to secure a life for herself, but still. An affair was an affair. No matter how much love might exist between them.

Calling it off was the right thing. Putting an ocean between them was the only way they would truly remain apart. She steeled herself against her desire to remain. No matter how much it hurt, she would erect a wall around her heart so that she would never have to face this again. Aisling was her last and only love.

She folded up the note, found an envelope, and tucked her last words to Aisling inside. Carrying her candle, she returned to her room, where she slid the letter between two books, peeking out so that Aisling would be able to find it.

Then she had to pack. She swiped her jewelry into her first bag, nearly clearing the dresser in one go. Tears burned at the back of her eyes. She blinked them away. There was no time for tears now. Her focus had to be on herself and her children. She knew they would ask about Aisling, their beloved governess.Kitty tried to come up with a few reasons they might be leaving her behind. None of them felt right. None ofthisfelt right.